Strange, wonderful aloneness

The last of our four children moved out yesterday. Our youngest son, who graduated university in December, packed up his room to live with two good friends.

Of course, the relocation wasn't without hiccups! The first two guys loaded their stuff into the UHaul and went to move it into the apartment. Then they learned they couldn't move in until the next day. So I came home to a UHaul parked at the top of the street - and three husky guys sitting on our LR sofa.

"Hi! I know Bob," I smiled at one of Jono's good friends. "But who are you guys?"

The two roommates introduced themselves. "We are essentially homeless until tomorrow, so Jono said we could sleep over. He's sleeping off his night shift in the guest room while we wait around." Of course, Jono's room had been disassembled. His bed and furniture, while not yet loaded into the truck, were packed up for a quick getaway.

I can't tell you the deep laughter inside this mother's heart. Oh, the resilience and flexibility of youth! We had a nice visit. Great guys. They made themselves coffee on W's espresso machine. (My coffee can be toxic since I'm not a coffee drinker.) I enjoyed my cup of tea.

Then I pointed to the sofa/futons, asked them to use sheets over the slipcovers, and bid them a fine stay before my husband and I headed out the door to an overnight event.

We came home last night to an empty house. The old bedroom is still chaotic. There are papers, a few bags of garbage, and some unsorted boxes left after their whirlwind of leaving. Hopefully Jono will clear it out this week. ("Ha ha, you optimist," I can hear my friends chortling.)

There's a strange wonder to this new season of parents-without-children as we become honeymooners. We're without kids for the first time in 32 years! Lots of people have come and gone at our house. More recently, Jono often had college friends sleep over.

I can tell I'm going to love the new privacy, of not running into young men headed up the stairs to the main bathroom's shower. We can wander into the kitchen in PJs and not find some stranger frying bacon or scrambling eggs at the stove. The sink and bathrooms will stay as clean as we make them. How cool is that!

My new mantra: "Empty nest is not a syndrome. It's a vacation!" Luckily our almost-2-year-old granddaughter disassembles the house one day a week, so I have toys and measuring cups to retrieve and replace in their cupboards.

I bet God loves the seasons of His children's maturity. He holds us when we're youngsters, disciplines us as spiritual "teens," and assigns us difficult and rigorous work as mature believers.

How did you feel, moving out of your childhood home? How about when your kids left?

Do you appreciate the seasons of spiritual maturity as God sees you through life?

Read more:
*In God's hand is the life of every living thing. Job 12:10 NLT

*My child, listen to me and do as I say, and you will have a long, good life. I will teach you wisdom's ways and lead you in straight paths. When you walk, you won't be held back; when you run, you won't stumble. Take hold of my instructions; don't let them go. Guard them, for they are the key to life. Proverbs 4:10–13 NLT

*The Lord will guide you always; he will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail. Isaiah 58:11 NIV

*God is not far from each one of us. For “In him we live and move and have our being.” Acts 17:27-28 NLT

Moravian Prayer: Tending God, you give life and then you draw near to your creation. When we face difficulties, remind us that you are holding us all in your powerful hand and are by our side through it all. Amen. 

How did you feel when you left home? When your kids moved out?